


Toilet Quickies

by 1two3five



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cartoon Physics, F/F, F/M, Futanari, Girl Penis, Hyper Scat, Incest, Other, Pantypooping, Scat, Soiling, Unrealistic Sex, Watersports, human toilet, weird toilet stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1two3five/pseuds/1two3five
Summary: Short one-offs centered around bizarre and kinky scenarios mostly involving poop. But, you know, the kind that doesn't smell.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	1. My Sex Demon Mom Turned Me Into My Sisters' Personal Toilet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is going to be a series of unrelated shorter stories, all based around weird kinky poop (and sometimes piss) stuff that I thought sounded hot, but I didn't really have in me to make what I felt was a "full length" story. Hopefully some of you guys are into some of the same crazy physically impossible nonsense I am, because very few of these follow what I would call "traditional logic" or "realism."
> 
> The usual disclaimer for my stuff: I dislike the more "filth" and "nastiness" related aspects of scat smut so messiness and smell and the like are generally never a factor in what I write. I'm also not really into diapers or abdl at all, so apologies if these are what you prefer. It's best to just think of it as a generic solid bodily excretion that comes out of the butt.
> 
> In any case, hope someone out there enjoys!

My mother was a sex demon. Not a metaphorical one, she wasn't just a lady addicted to fucking. She was actually a demon, from the underworld. She'd started residing on Earth at some point about 20 years ago and met my father, a normal human. I never asked how they fell in love or anything because I'm pretty sure they didn't. I never asked but her attitude toward other humans in general made me assume he was just a random guy she thought was cute and kidnapped one day to service her huge demon cock. I'd never actually met the guy. I'm pretty sure he was alive but never really thought to look into it. Anyway, Mom didn't have goat legs or extra arms or anything too crazy, but when she was home and dispelled the glamour that made her look like a normal, if rather tall and imposing, human woman, she did have the stereotypical bright red skin, horns, and black sclera in her eyes. Mostly human-like teeth, at least. I wouldn't say I was ever 'scared' of her, because after all, she was my mom and I loved her, but I definitely knew it was a dumb idea to make her particularly angry.

I'm not 100% sure how I was born, since neither of my parents had vaginas, though if you asked me to guess I'd say she got our father butt-pregnant with demon magic. And after a few weeks of gestation, I and my two sisters, Abbadon and Belphegor (or Abby and Bella for short) were born, half-demon half-human fraternal triplets. We had normal enough childhoods, other than having a demon for a mom I guess. We had human appearances, and we went to school like normal kids. We graduated high school a few days before our 18th birthday, and on the way home afterward, we talked about what we were going to do. I was pretty set on continuing school at a college a few hours away, while Abby and Bella both wanted to get jobs in our hometown and stay with Mom for the time being.

However, a few days later on the morning of our birthday, my plans went pretty much out the window. I woke up at around 8:30 to an empty house. Mom, Abby, and Bella were all gone. I figured they were doing something in preparation for our birthday; Mom was never much of a party person but even she seemed excited about this one. Or maybe more like nervous? She had definitely been a bit more on edge the last couple weeks.

I wasn't much of a breakfast person, something that I would be rather thankful for later that day. I skipped the meal and just turned on the TV and lazed about for a couple hours until I heard the car door outside signaling the return of the girls.

“Eligos honey, come over here, kneel down, and point your rear this way,” Mom ordered casually as she and my sisters walked in the door. Abby and Bella were both holding their stomachs with pained looks on their faces, like they had rather bad stomachaches. I got up, confused at the order but knowing better than to disobey it, and got on my knees with my pajama-clad butt pointing at the three of them, which was a little embarassing.

Looking behind me I could see Mom quickly stride over to me and yank my pajamas down exposing my naked ass. I yelped and tried to move, or pull them back up, or get up, but I found myself completely immobile; Mom's demon magic. She'd used her Binding spell on us a lot when we were younger and a bit too energetic. Because I was locked in place I couldn't tell who it was, but one of my sisters walked up, turned around, pulled her skirt and panties down, bent over, and began pressing her buttcheeks to mine.

“Sorry Eli!” was all Abby said before I could feel something big, thick, and rigid pressing at my backdoor. I didn't even have time to reflexively try and defend against the intruder as it made its way past my sphincter and into my rectum.

Abby was pooping into my butthole. I wanted to scream, but all that escaped my lips were moans as the turgid snake quickly reached my prostate, and sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The turd was massive, stretching my insides to what felt like their limit, and it seemed to show no signs of slowing as Abby continued to push. Deeper and deeper her shit delved inside me, winding its way through my intestinal tract. After about seven or eight minutes of nonstop pushing, Abby stopped to take a breath, but didn't decouple herself from me, which told me there was more to go. By this point Bella and Mom had walked over in front of me so they could watch my face as my sister filled me up with shit, Bella seemingly desperate to have her turn while Mom smirked and passively stroked her demon cock. I knew she was into weird sex shit but I didn't realize that included the literal interpretation of the phrase.

My gut swelled until it looked pregnant with at least 2 or 3 babies. Abby made a loud grunting noise as she doubled down and I could feel the speed of her log entering me increase, making it so I had closer to 5 or 6 babies worth of poop in me before she finished. I could feel the log slowing down before stopping completely and Abby finally got up from her position behind me. She was dripping sweat and panting like crazy as she walked over next to Mom, while Bella darted over to take her spot as fast as she could. Before my hole had even managed to close, it was re-widened by a second intruder.

Bella's shit was not quite as rock-hard as Abby's, but it was about a centimeter bigger in diameter. I looked at Mom with confusion in my eyes over why she had done this to me but the smirk I got back as she continued jacking off was all the answer I got.

After about 20 minutes my belly was inflated far past what should have been physically possible, pregnant or not. It was bigger than a yoga ball, having touched the ground several minutes ago, and the experience of having it engorged to this level left me too tired to try and lift it up, so I simply laid there as Bella finished pooping into me and I felt Mom's Binding spell release. Bella rejoined Mom and Abby as the three of them walked off, chattering with each other about something I couldn't make out as my consciousness faded.

~

When I woke up a few hours later I was back to normal. My body had returned to its previous size, and it was as if the morning was all a dream.

Of course it definitely wasn't a dream, because what woke me up was another log of shit pressing against my anus. Mom and Abby were stood directly in front of me as I was bound in place again, unable to move from my hands and knees. Bella was knelt behind me, almost like a dog knotting its mate, with her ass pushed up against mine, shitting directly into my butthole again.

“Morning, Eli!” Abby said cheerfully as she held her stomach, which was audibly grumbling. “Or well, I guess it's the afternoon. Anyway, guess what? Mom says you're our new toilet!”

I opened my mouth to ask why, but as I did so, Bella's turd smashed up against my prostate and made me moan in pleasure.

“If you're wondering why, it's 'cause that's how it always was,” Abby continued. “Apparently me and Bella pooped a ton, ever since we were babies, and Mom got tired of changing us so she magically sealed it away so it wouldn't mess with our childhoods. But those kinds of sealing spells only work on kids, and when we turned 18 it went away. We went to see Auntie Mal this morning to ask her what to do about it.”

“According to Malphas, when twin hybrids are born they tend to have one defining characteristic in opposition to one another. Like one that can create fire and one that can create ice, or one will have an overwhelming lust for power while the other is carefree and affable, that type of thing. Your body is unique. You never had the... overactive bowels of your sisters, and I wondered why that was for a long time.”

My stomach had filled back up to the point of swelling outward again by now thanks to Bella's shit. “Auntie Mal said since Bella and I are both... what was it, Mom?”

“Walking waste factories.”  
  
“Yeah. Since we're 'walking waste factories' that must have made you a walking waste warehouse!” she exclaimed, the most excited I'd seen her in years. “We were worried at first earlier when we woke up and could tell something was wrong with us, so we asked Mom about it while you were sleeping. She and Auntie Mal both said the best solution was to use you as a toilet from now on."

Bella made what sounded like an approving grunt from behind me. As my stomach continued to balloon back up, I realized it didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as last time. In fact, it was almost... soothing. Were... were they all right? Was I... really built for this? _Meant_ for this?

“What... guh... what happens to... the um... stuff inside me...?” I asked, strained slightly. "It was all gone when I HAAaaAa... woke up j-just now..." After a final push Bella's shit finally finishes and she lets out a heavy sigh before getting up and walking around to the front of me. Abby, still clutching her stomach, practically sprints to take her spot and my butt is quickly re-plugged by Abby's poo snake.

“Well, since it's being made by your sisters, it's got demonic magic in it, and your body simply processes it over the course of about an hour, adding to your own demonic power.”  
  
“R-really?” I ask, taken aback.

“Don't get too excited; it's more or less equivalent to empty demonic calories. You're not exactly gonna be ready to conquer humanity just by letting your sisters shit in your ass for a couple of weeks, hun.” Mom was pretty blunt about it. Abby, being second this time, seemed extra eager to fill me up, pushing twice as fast as Bella did.

“Sorry Eli,” said the freshly relieved Bella, who squatted down to be at eye level with me. “I know you wanted to go to college, but me and Abby really need you to help us keep this under control.” She had a guilty look in her eyes, even though this wasn't her fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. I wanted to blame Mom for it at first, but even though she was kind of a sex freak, I knew she wouldn't do something this extreme to us on purpose. Plus, I knew how sealing magic worked. There was no avoiding this.

“Don't be sorry, Bella,” I said in my best 'reassuring brother' voice, which may or may not have been undermined somewhat by my belly swelling full of my sisters' poop. “I know this... hngh... isn't your fault. I'm the only one who... aahhhh... can help you guys with this so... I guess... I guess I'm your toilet from now on. And... I think I'm realizing that... I don't mind, really.”  
  
“What?” both Mom and Bella asked in unison. They sounded surprised that I was so ok with it.

“Yeah, I... I guess Aunt Mal was right. I thought I hated it the first time but... I think it was just the shock of it all. I think this really is what I was always supposed to do for you guys.”

Mom was speechless. Bella teared up and gave me a quick kiss before running off into another room of the house. Abby continued to pump up my guts full of feces. It was about this point when I noticed the binding spell Mom had put on my limbs had been undone. After about 20 seconds spent in silence, aside from Abby's various noises, Mom knelt down like Bella had done, putting her face closer to mine. She looked into my face with her sharp demon eyes.

“... Don't tell your sisters this, Eligos,” she whispered, leaning in a bit closer to one side. “I was really worried about how I'd be able to handle this. I spent years looking into alternative methods so I wouldn't have to impose this on you, but... I never found one that would have worked properly, at least not long term. I... was going to tell you about this beforehand, and prepare you for it, but I decided it was best to just rip the bandage off, hope you didn't resent your sisters for it, and that maybe someday you'd forgive me. Thank you, my son.”

She then stood up and left. The look on her face was the softest smile I'd ever seen, and though I'd never say it to her, I could swear I spotted a single tear running down her cheek as she walked away.

My warm and fuzzy feeling was suddenly interrupted by another jolt up my spine and through my dick as a particularly aggressive section of turd Abby pushed out jammed against my prostate again. But then a different warm and fuzzy feeling overcame me. The feeling that I was right where I was supposed to be.


	2. My Sister's Quirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This basically has nothing to do with My Hero Academia (so I won't bother adding it to the tags), and I just felt like using "Quirk" as easy shorthand for "Superpower most people have." This isn't a story about heroes, but rather a brother and the strange way his little sister shows love.

My name is Ken. I still lived at home in my mid-20s, partially to save money, partially because I was a bit of a shut-in. I have no Quirk. While not unheard of in this age it was certainly not common, especially for parents who both had Quirks. I'd come to terms with it and more or less accepted it; I never had any grand dreams of being a Hero anyway. They were cool and all but it just never called out to me as my destiny or anything. 

My sister's name is Sora. She still lived at home in her early-20s, mostly because she was always really attached to me and had decided (on her own) that if I ever moved out she'd come with me. She does have a Quirk, though she discovered it much later in life than most people. It had pretty much no connection to our parents' Quirks whatsoever. These were also not very common, but the odds of all three of these aberrations happening to a pair of siblings were pretty low. We were a bit of a weird family.

Of course, there were other reasons for that. Probably the most notable thing being Sora liked to poop. A lot. Everywhere. I'd wager the second weirdest thing about us was that mom and dad were totally cool with this, and the third weirdest being that I was too.

Discovering your Quirk as a kid is one of the most exciting parts of most people's lives. Of course, most people's Quirks are either a non-factor in their everyday lives, or only affect it in minor ways. Some Quirks gel with a person's hobbies or career motivations perfectly, some Quirks are basically useless for the person in question, or just in general. And then some Quirks let the user defecate on command, like Sora's.

The entire family assumed that both of us were Quirkless for our the length of our youth, until one day, at age 22, Sora filled up the entire bathroom. Mom and Dad were mostly worried she'd be upset or distraught over such a... strange, gross Quirk. On the contrary, she seemed giddy that hers had finally made itself known. Also, she was kind of fascinated by it, and over the next year would terrorize the rest of us by filling up large parts of our suburban house with her waste. She could make it disappear at will, and it somehow didn't make a mess. If you were to touch it yourself it would have a strange, almost teflon-esque quality to it, like how water would slide off of hydrophobic material. She did always make good on her assurance that she'd get rid of it after a little while, but mom and dad still grew more and more frustrated that she wouldn't listen to them. That was, until one day when Sora invited a “friend” from her community college home and introduced her to mom and dad. I never saw that friend at our house again but from that moment forward our parents were way more accepting of Sora's shitting antics. She stopped wearing pants around the house after that and very rarely bothered with underwear either.

Looking back, it's pretty obvious she always had a crush on me. I was just way too dense to realize it when we were younger. She had always been attached at the hip to me, ever since we were little kids, but as we got older it would turn more and more into affection, and eventually infatuation. When her Quirk manifested she began to regularly invite me to her room to watch her fill it with poop, or come into my room and do the same. To be honest I never fought it. It never bothered me too much; though I suppose that says more about me than her.

As the months passed and her control over her quirk got better, she was able to do more with the shit she released. She had apparently learned how to shape it into different objects with her mind. It would definitely be a powerful Quirk if she were to ever decide to become a hero, or god forbid a villain, though I can't imagine what the public image of a Poop Hero would be like. But it seemed that, like me, she was pretty unambitious, and mostly just wanted to use it to have fun with me.

At some point I came home from my job at a nearby convenience store to find that our couch was missing. In its place was a giant turd shaped like a couch, with our parents sitting casually on it watching TV. Of course the entertainment center was also missing, replaced by an identical copy made out of shit. It seemed Sora had skipped school and several pieces of furniture around the house had been deemed superfluous by her that day. Desks and drawers and cabinets all seemingly supplanted by Sora's shit copies. I was more impressed that she'd managed to get all the other stuff moved out than anything.

When I headed to my room I noticed my door was open. I went in and there she was, bottomless as usual, in the process of letting loose her superhuman excrement right where my bed used to be. I looked around my room and saw it had been given the same treatment as the living room. The shelves which housed my movie and game cases, my desk that my computer sat on, the chair I used for it, and my TV stand, were now all made of my sister's shit. All the stuff that couldn't be simply remade out of poo like the electronics and media that sat on those pieces of furniture, remained where they had been.

She noticed me in the doorway and greeted me with the widest smile of her life as her ass briefly stopped its production. She let me know she was almost done with my “new bed” as she put a hand to the enormous mound, donned a look of intense concentration, and after about 15 seconds the pile of shit quickly molded itself into the exact size and shape of my old bed, minus the pillows and coverings. She immediately solved that issue though by squeezing out two more small (by her standards) logs and shaping them into a couple of turd pillows.

After that day I don't think I ever slept on or in anything but my sister's shit again.

Her favorite part of the day was bedtime, when she would “tuck me in” by standing directly over me on the shit bed and unload directly onto me, forming a blanket made of poop. She liked to look at her handiwork for a few minutes after that before kissing me on the forehead and going back into her room.

As the weeks passed in our new living arrangements we would discover that Sora's Quirk made it so her shit maintained its physical properties indefinitely; it never dried out or hardened the way everyone else's would. It even stayed as warm as the moment she pushed it out. That being said, she would purposefully make certain things disappear from the house in order to replace and remake them, like the couch and my bed. She told me it was no fun if there was never a reason to make more. Pieces that held stuff on them like shelves would've been a pain to deal with putting everything back so she didn't bother with those.

By the time I'd saved up enough money to finally move out as I neared 30, she had progressed to the point where every wall, floor, and ceiling in the house was insulated by a thick layer of shit. I was quite literally living in a house of poop. Most people would probably have gotten alarmed by this at some point, but... quite frankly, it was calming, and I could feel Sora's love emanating from every surface.

We eventually found a moderate sized apartment in the city together. Sora tried to convince me to recreate the conditions back at home but I knew it would be too much of a hassle explaining why there was no couch or beds or chairs any time a maintenance guy or the landlord showed up. Unfortunately she'd have to make do with just encasing all the real furniture with a protective layer of her shit every day. I couldn't ask for anything better.


	3. Our Giant Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask where the idea for this one came from 'cause I don't even know, man.

Our professor, Ms. Locklear, was a special lady. She was about twice as tall as most people, her penis was about four times longer than most people (according to her, anyway) and she could poop more than anybody. How did we know that? Well, that's where we sat during class of course.

I guess I should explain how things got to that point. Because she was so big, she couldn't fit in a normal classroom without sitting down AND staying hunched over. As a result, she had to use a special classroom that had been repurposed from an old storage building on the campus grounds. It was just big enough to accommodate her standing at her full 12 feet tall, and spacious enough for the fifteen of us to have plenty of room when she was sat down. The front of the room behind her desk was essentially a barn door that had replaced what was originally a wall, made specifically for her.

When the semester started, the class was full of desks and chairs as normal, and even though we knew this class would be special, we were all still in awe on the first day. Ms. Locklear knew she wouldn't be able to get us to focus on anything but her that day so she didn't bother trying to get us to talk about anything else after she briefly went over the syllabus.

We instead asked all kinds of questions about what it was like being as big as she was, and she was happy to answer pretty much all of them. The humongous bulge in the front of her dress was one of the first things to come up, of course. We all knew that some girls were born with penises but hers was so big it was practically the size of her boobs, and those weren't small either. Even when one of the other kids asked about how she went to the bathroom, she didn't blush or change the topic. Instead, she told us about how even for a woman as big as her she needed a big bathroom, and usually just held it until she got home since obviously none of the ones on campus would work.

After the first day things settled into a normal rhythm, of course. It was a twice a week class that went 6 hours, with an hour break in between at noon. Being a bit of a walk from the main building meant most of us just stayed out here to eat lunch that we brought from home, and we never got any visitors from other classes so it felt a bit lonely, but we all grew a lot closer as a result.

One day during lunch, however, we all heard a very loud rumbling coming from the front of the room. Our gazes all snapped to Ms. Locklear, who grabbed her stomach and winced in pain. She told us to stay put and finish lunch as she left the classroom through her special gigantic doorway. We all looked around at one another and, almost in unison, silently put our lunches down and got up to leave.

We followed Ms. Locklear out into the woods next to the campus grounds as she awkwardly waddled her way out of sight of any prying eyes. She might have lost us if she had been going anywhere near her full speed but the distress she felt from her stomach was clearly slowing her down quite a bit, and we kept her in our view as we tailed her. We made sure to keep to the side of her, rather than directly behind, which probably would have been asking for trouble. After a few minutes, we saw her stop at the edge of a steep hillside that dropped off into acres and acres more of woods.

She, in one swift motion, turned around, pulled down her dress and whatever underwear she may have had on, turned around, bent over, and let go. That sight would stick with us for the rest of our lives. Our giant, insanely hung teacher, spurting out enormous ropes of shit into the woods below as a look of both relief and pleasure washed over her face. It went on for about five minutes, and her flow never stemmed until the end.

At the time we thought we screwed up by not leaving sooner, while she was preoccupied. One of the girls, in a hushed tone, snapped us out of whatever trance we had all been under, and got us to hurry back through the woods and back to the classroom. However, Ms. Locklear definitely noticed us scurrying back, as well as the fact that we were all sweaty and out of breath when she came back into the classroom about 10 minutes later.

She didn't seem mad, though. She was a bit annoyed that her students had seen her losing control like that, but was more flattered than anything when we told her how crazy and awesome it was.

During the next class, though, we were all still thinking about it. She tried her best to teach us, but we couldn't help but all be distracted by the memory of yesterday. With her serious voice, she scolded us for not paying attention, but it really didn't help. The class after that was the same story. Even a week long holiday didn't cure any of us of this newfound fascination. We were all obsessed with our giant professor's giant dumps.

On the next day of class, when she gave an exasperated sigh at our antsy disinterest in the lesson, I raised my hand and suggested that maybe if we could see her use the bathroom again, it might motivate us. She began to protest, but, noticing everybody else's suddenly expectant, hopeful faces, stopped and thought about it. After about a minute of consideration, she shockingly said okay, and told us to follow her.

We went back into the same woods as last week, roughly the same direction, but stopped at a clearing about 70% of the way to the cliff she had gone to before. It was still well out of view of the main school, and, after hesitating slightly, pulled down her dress, leaving only her wildly stretched out panties as her 2-foot penis and basketball-sized testicles were all bunched up in there. She pulled those down too, exposing her bottom half to us again, this time on purpose. However, we all crowded around the back, more interested in her huge peach of a rear and what was about to come out of it.

She advised us to back up and give her a bit of room before giving a big push and unleashing a humongous log of shit right onto the ground. Within seconds it was coiling up onto itself and was as tall as all of us. We were watching with rapt fascination as it continued to grow. However, almost as quickly as it started, it was over. It seemed that since she didn't have the same emergency urge as last time, she wasn't able to produce quite the same volume. But it was still absolutely massive, big enough to engulf all of us students easily.

She asked if we were satisfied with that, and we all excitedly said yes. A couple of us, myself included, worked up the nerve to go and touch it. It was odd, it felt almost like clay. I noticed when I put my hand on it, it didn't make my hand dirty at all. I asked Ms. Locklear why that was, and she just said, because she was special.

The next day of class we asked to see it again, and again the next time after that. After 4 or 5 classes of taking us out to the woods to poop for us, she eventually decided it would be faster and less of a hassle to just stay in the building and do it. Someone wondered who'd clean it up afterward, but she said she'd do it in a way that was easy to remove: she'd just go in her own underwear and carry it out herself. We were ecstatic at this news. She took off her dress and placed it aside, sitting down at the front of the room facing her door, butt pointed right at us. With a girly moan, we saw her panties inflate, becoming as big as and then bigger than her own butt, gradually overtaking and encasing it. Her panties were apparently stretchy in both the front and the back as the big mass swelled up above all of our heads, reaching about level with hers.

We spent the next 30 minutes playing with it, pressing our hands into it, jumping on it, laying on it, and basically having recess on top of our professor's soiled undies. Ms. Locklear was mostly silent the whole time, but her blushing face was visible from the side. It seemed like she was happy we were so excited by this.

Another few weeks passed, and Ms. Locklear kept her word; every day for about half an hour she would turn around, sit on the floor, and poop out a huge mess in her panties for us to play with and on. She generally did it pretty close to lunchtime, and would leave the classroom during the break to go outside and change into an empty pair of panties that she brought with her. We all assumed she changed in the woods and left her old panties there until classes was over, and she'd go back and pick it up to take home with her after that, since none of us could find them after class when we tried looking.

One morning we heard Ms. Locklear's stomach growling again, same as the day this all started, and she clutched her midsection with a wince. She started to stand up, saying she needed to go, and we all told her not to, begging her to stay and do it here. Her face was conflicted, but she quickly sighed and gave in to our collective puppy dog eyes. She told us to scooch all the desks to the side of the classroom, making a wide open floorspace, and we obliged as she turned around.

We watched with bated breath as our giant professor bore down to let her bowels really run wild, and almost instantly about a quarter of the room had been filled by her shit-stuffed panties. As she continued, the mass kept swelling outward, and it threatened to push some of us up against the desks we'd moved to the walls, so we had to push back a bit, forcing the mass to expand further forward into the unfilled space of the classroom instead.

As the poopy panties reached about the 80% mark we realized it was too much for the stretchy fabric to fully contain, and the waistband had been forced out, leaving a big opening at the top where we saw the uncovered load of our teacher for the first time since we moved this activity indoors.

On a whim, I decided to climb up onto the pantyload, as we'd all done many times prior, but this time instead of merely sitting on top with Ms. Locklear's undies separating us from her poop, I submerged my legs in the not-quite-solid mass. About half of the other students were shocked, but the other half joined me right away, before the entire class made their way up. There was more than enough room by the time Ms. Locklear was finishing up, and when she finally came back to her senses she turned her head to look back at the scene and make sure everything was ok, only to see us all waist-deep in her gigantic shit.

She was shocked to see us like this, blushing and stammering as she tried to figure out what to do next. We reassured her that this was awesome and we were all having the time of our lives, which stunned her into silence. We sat for about an hour, talking about the poop, comparing how different spots felt, asking Ms. Locklear various things about it, before she eventually tried to get us to get out of her makeshift pool, because we needed to resume class. We were having none of that, though.

After much cajoling and bargaining, it was decided. The next day we stacked up all the desks and chairs at the back of the classroom, because we were never going to need them again. We convinced Ms. Locklear to let us have class while sat in her enormous log of poop from now on. As we were coming to our decision, one of the boys raised the question of whether she could make this much every day since it had only happened when she had a stomachache, and she assured us it wasn't a problem. According to her, this was actually about how much she could _normally_ shit if she didn't hold back, and what we thought were her "normal" loads were actually her restraining herself. When her stomach was upset, if she actually let loose to her full capability, and had had a particularly filling breakfast, she said could fill up the entire campus. We were awestruck by the imagery that conjured up.

Of course when she realized she couldn't teach us while turned around, she simply stood up and got out of her panties, turned to face us, and sat back down, pressing her humongous dick and balls into the shit she'd just let out. She finally faced her students eye to eye, and another tear rolled down her cheek as she saw us. We all had ear-to-ear grins on our faces as we began the rest of the best semester of our lives.


	4. Mini-Quickies #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are some even shorter little blurbs that I'll occasionally be posting in batches of 3 or 4. A couple of paragraphs at most, that are essentially just "here's a weird, kinky premise involving shit! I don't really know what else to do with it, but there it is!"

I still can't believe that witch was that powerful. Somehow she knew how to place an automatic portal spell on everybody on Earth, specifically located in their rectums. She'd made it so all the contents of the bowels of every human alive would magically teleport itself into MY butt when they took a shit. Of course she'd also given me the “blessings” of not only immortality and eternal youth, but an infinite void colon in order to store it all for the rest of time. I have no idea why she picked me or what kind of twisted pleasure she got from this.

Whenever I would walk around town I looked at everybody differently now, like yeah, I'm your toilet. All of you. Your moms and dads, as well. And that guy you know down the street. Your third grade teacher, too. Even your kids and grandkids, and their grandkids' grandkids! But they'd never realize. Kind of sad, really. If I had to be the human race's permanent septic tank I'd at least like a few of them to thank me for the job. A quick “hey man thanks for storing my shit,” or “sorry about last night, me and my girlfriend had a few too many of those sex pills that make you shit like crazy afterward!” would be nice. I mean, the only reason those pills made it to market is because of me nullifying the side effects for everybody. Just a bit of gratitude would be awesome.

I had wondered if the people who were into poop stuff ever got mad that all their fun started to get zapped away into my colon. Ah well. That was about 500 years ago at this point, nobody alive even knew what poop looked like anymore. Another day, another few hundred tons of strangers' shit to take inside me. Not that I ever got a break or anything, it was pretty much a 24/7 for eternity kind of gig.

At least my girlfriend likes it. Oh? Did I not mention? I started dating the witch who did it to me. I mean, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, y'know?

~~~~~~~~~~

My wife is usually on top when we have sex, and that's fine with me, I frankly can't get enough of her cock, but we tend to sleep with me as the big spoon. We're about the same height, and while we're just cuddling she's always the big spoon, but specifically when it's time to go to bed is the only time I'm ever behind her. That's because every night she loses control of her bowels, and she likes to wake up to the sight of me buried in her waste. My morning ritual is to wake up, wiggle my toes, which, aside from my head, is pretty much the only part of my body not covered in her massive mound of shit, and... wait for her to wake up. Eventually she does, and helps me get out, at which point we wrap up her load in the bedsheets and take it outside like we were taking out the trash, and go about our day as normal.

~~~~~~~~~~

For some reason history teachers always brought up how the sky used to be blue. About how people could see things out past the sky that they called “the sun” and “the moon.” And a bunch of little white specks called “stars.” I didn't really get it. Ever since I was born the sky was brown. The idea of living in a world that wasn't stuffed inside a goddess's shit-filled panties was completely foreign to humanity at this point. Her name was never recorded, but legend has it she was once a regular human girl, bestowed unfathomable power, and what she chose to do with it was to encase the Earth in her poop and keep it packed in her panties, protecting it for eternity.

A common ritual to show thanks to the goddess was for family or lovers to pray for her to bless them with a fraction of her power. One of them would fill up a pair of underwear to about the size of a beanbag chair and then the other would climb inside and they would go to sleep. It was the kind of thing you'd see in movies all the time. At this point the “establishing shot of person with massive bulge behind them waking up as someone else crawls out from inside” thing was kind of a film cliché.

Had I ever done it? Well yeah. I was resting inside my sister's massive load of poop right now. I hadn't had a bed of my own for about fifteen years at this point so that was where I slept, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~

There she was. Tall, tomboy haircut dyed an array of colors, perky C cups with pink nipples, light muscle tone, and a flaccid but thick 10-inch rod hanging in front of a pair of succulent tangerine sized nuts. Her name was Roxanne... and so was mine. She was my perfect clone. I'd finally done it. Her eyes slowly opened as her fingers began to twitch and she slowly gained consciousness. With a yawn she woke up for the first time and looked directly at me, greeting me with a smug grin.

“Hey Roxy,” were her first words. “I gotta take a shit.”

“You know where the toilet is, Anna” I responded. I'd pre-programmed her with a few specific functions and memories.

“Yup.” And with that she hovered her amazing ass directly over my twitching erection. I was on my knees, pulling my panties forward and stretching them out to make as wide a receptacle as possible, since I knew she'd need the room. Anna began shitting right into the front of my undies, and I nearly came right then and there, but I knew she'd be at it for awhile so I held myself back as I watched her unloading, the waste of my clone plopping down onto my cock and balls, giving me more satisfaction than I'd ever felt in my life.

“You're a fucking freak, you know that Roxy?” said Anna as she continued shitting, entering her sixth minute of nonstop excretion, my dick long-buried underneath. Her pile of dung sticking out the front of my panties was nearly up to my breasts by now.

“Mmmm... haaa... never really... thought about it,” I panted.

“So when are you gonna some more of us? Really wanna see you fully covered in shit. Or like, trapped in a room full of it. Whichever.” she asked.

“Oh they're on their way, don't worry about that,” I assured her, glancing at a door behind which were about a half dozen more cloning tubes, all hard at work growing Anna's little sisters.


	5. Kate's Cursed Panties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is slightly darker than usual, and the end is... a little silly. Don't take it too seriously.

When Kate first stumbled on the strange pair of underwear, she wasn't sure what to make of them. They looked normal enough, but just holding them had a... clouding effect on her mind. Something was compelling her to put them on. She resisted the temptation for as long as she could... but that lasted about ten minutes. Discarding the pair she was wearing, she donned what she would soon learn was a pair of “one-way panties.” Something that enters them could not exit. Anything.

She quickly realized the full consequences of her discovery. Her first realization was that she couldn't take them off, including when she really, desperately needed to use the restroom. After nearly a day of holding it in and trying to remove these cursed undies, her body eventually betrayed her and the ass of her panties began to swell with her excrement. And, as something that had entered the panties, her prior meal wasn't going anywhere. She was stuck with a bulging backside from now on.

Pre-emptively embarrassed at the prospect of being seen like this, Kate stopped going outside. For the next several weeks she sat in her own shame, the bump protruding from her rump growing steadily as she continued to make boom-boom with no other recourse than to keep going in these horrid panties. Her friends, worried for her, started calling and texting her, trying to see if she was OK. She knew leaving the messages unanswered would just alarm them, so she gave half-hearted answers that she was fine, but needed some alone time. She knew these reassurances wouldn't suffice forever, but she didn't know how else to handle it. No doctor would believe what was happening, and she was afraid her loved ones would regard her as some disgusting freak who was doing this on purpose and stop associating with her.

Around the 3-month mark, the phone calls got more urgent. Kate's friends were insistent that they come over and help her with whatever was happening, despite her pleas against it. She tried to waddle into a hidden nook of her home as she heard the knocks and door chimes of her friends. Together they were able to bash in the back door, which they knew had an old, flimsy lock, and spent the next five minutes searching the house for Kate before they found her in a guest room closet, crying on top of... a beanbag chair? They were confused at first, until they physically pulled her out of the closet and the beanbag came with her.

There were four of them there, and they had been stunned into silence. There they stood, staring at their friend Kate's giant bulging panties, filled with shit. She sobbed an explanation about how she couldn't get them off and they were cursed or something, but when she looked up at her friends, Kate realized none of them had heard what she said. They were all fixated on the panties. Hypnotized, almost. Kate's attempts to get their attention were fruitless as they all got closer to her meter-wide pantyload, kneeling down next to it. Completely flabbergasted at what her friends were doing, Kate tried to snap them out of it before she remembered this was exactly what happened to her when she put them on the first time. They were transfixed by whatever curse these stupid panties had on them.

Kate's revelation was interrupted, however, when she felt, for the first time in months, the waistband above her ass stretching out. She'd never managed to pull it out before. It had stuck to her skin as if it was grafted on every time she tried. How was this happening? Before she could continue that train of thought, she saw in her peripheral vision one of her friends getting up and moving, before feeling him behind her, feet now stood in Kate's shit

He was getting inside her one-way cursed panties. Kate screamed and flailed in response to this, shocked and disgusted at the concept of someone willingly submerging themselves in someone else's waste, and terrified at the knowledge that if he did this, he was stuck there forever. Even worse, she could tell that her other three friends were about to do the same.

Her fears were quite founded as, shortly after the first friend fully lowered himself and disappeared inside the cursed panties and the trapped mound of poop, two more of them did the same, opting instead to go in simultaneously through the leg holes. Kate suddenly found herself with an intense need to vacate her guts and proceeded to take the biggest shit of her life, with her output nearly matching the mass of the three friends who'd just entered her panties, as if she'd eaten them herself. This distraction gave the fourth of her friends ample time to enjoy a slow descent as she got behind Kate and gradually lowered herself, reaching around and fondling Kate's breasts all the while. The first 3 had been silent as they disappeared into Kate's poop, but the fourth uttered two words into Kate's ear in the most seductive, sensual voice Kate had ever heard out of her: “ _Keep going._ ”

She knew that wasn't her friend speaking. It was the panties using her friend's voice. But that was all it took to break Kate's willpower. Her tears stopped flowing from that point forth. She stopped trying to hold her growing bowel movements in. She stopped trying to keep people away from her, and in fact began going out in public again. It started small, with just dragging the huge mass over to her neighbor's house to knock on their door and silently smile at them as they quickly felt the pull of the panties. The other residents would see Kate at the door with some huge thing behind her and go to greet her, not realizing she'd already been greeted, and without even coming to a stop they continued walking right toward whichever leg-hole was nearest and climbed in. Within an hour the neighborhood had been vacated, with everyone relocating into Kate's now bus-sized shit prison.

Over the next few weeks, the sphere of influence radiating from Kate and her panties expanded tremendously. People from multiple cities away began to drive down to a nameless, empty field somewhere, compelled by an unknown, unseen force to all converge on a single point. When they arrived at the field, people were greeted by a great monolithic dome, with a single smiling woman attached to the front of it and thousands of people all crowding at her feet, trying to crawl into a couple of small entrance points right around her legs. The woman stood, eyes closed, with her face a mixture of seemingly near-orgasmic pleasure and a strain greater than childbirth.

Kate was barely conscious of what was happening by this point. The more people shoved themselves into her inescapable panties filled with poop, the more poop she produced. It was becoming an exponential reaction. The dome was still visibly growing as more and more people entered, more and more shit flowed into it, and more and more people across the country came under the irresistible influence of Kate's cursed panties.

Eventually every human being on Earth would feel the call. Even those in remote parts of the world, with no access to technology or vehicular transport would make their long journey. Though there would be stragglers coming to join the rest of them for another year or two, by and large the entire human population of Earth was now trapped forever in Kate's cursed panties and would live out the rest of their days suspended in an expanse of shit vaster than the Pacific Ocean.

The view from space was unbelievable; it was as though a white sphere roughly the size of Mars had partially phased into the surface of the Earth and was now sticking out the side. The vast dome that now encased 7 billion people, as well as an equivalent mass of Kate's feces, loomed large on the surface, overtaking nearly an entire hemisphere's worth of area on the face of the planet.

And at the front sat Kate, her mind irreversibly altered, but not quite broken. She sat at the front of her handiwork, proud that she'd come so far, but sad that it was over so quickly. As the entirety of her race squirmed and shifted behind her in her shit, as they would for the rest of their days, she couldn't help but pine for more.

However, her wish was granted as she spotted a strange object in the sky above. It was... a spaceship? Were... were aliens landing on Earth? Right after the graceful exit of Humanity from history? Kate could only stare agape as the ship, and several more like it, descended to the ground right in front of her. After a few minutes an entrance opened up and a myriad of strange creatures emerged. Some of them looked vaguely humanoid, others had animal-like qualities to them, and other still were beyond Kate's ability to classify. It seemed this was some kind of alliance of several different races of extraterrestrial. But what were they doing h- oh, nevermind. They immediately walked up to her and started shoving themselves into Kate's leg-holes.

Rather than think about it too hard, Kate sat back and enjoyed, as she spotted about three or four dozen more ships, all of various designs and sizes, dotting the sky.


	6. Mini-Quickies #2

Samus had been called in by the Federation to investigate SR388 for the first time since her extermination campaign of the Metroids. She was originally meant to go with a research team but decided to scout the planet's surface alone to ensure she had indeed dealt with the last of the Metroids. During her mission, however, she encountered a mysterious organism she would later deem a parasite that attached itself to her, seemingly merging into her body through the gaps in her Power Suit. She initially felt no adverse effects as she made her way back to the Federation outpost.

However, she was in a bit of a bind. As she traveled through space in her gunship, she found she couldn't remove her Zero Suit. It hadn't quite fused with her, she could still stretch bits of it out, and she was able to feel her skin independently from the suit, but if she tried to extract any part of herself from it, the edges sealed up tight, as if it were alive and could sense her intentions.

But that was only really an issue because of the OTHER problem this strange parasite had caused for Samus: she had become completely incontinent and her bowels had more than doubled in their productiveness. Samus was now stuck with a big saggy lump dragging behind her everywhere she went, with no way to remove it or escape it. And every day, at least twice a day (but usually more), she had no choice but to feel more thick, solid ropes of shit leave her colon without her consent, adding to the problem. It had been 4 months since the incident on SR388, and she hadn't gone back to the Federation.

She continued receiving small jobs via her comms, and she was capable enough to compensate for the suit full of poop she had trailing behind her, at least for awhile. But Samus was conflicted, desperately wanting help, but terrified of the wounded pride it would cause to be seen like this. She couldn't bear how embarrassing it would be to go to the Federation doctors dragging a mass of her own waste behind her in her suit.

Little did Samus realize the embarrassment wasn't really her own. It was being artificially induced by a strange mutation of what would originally have been designated the “X Parasite,” in order to delay her seeking medical aid and keep her sat in her gunship, shitting her suit full. The bounty hunter would continue to waffle on whether to try and figure something out on her own or get help for the rest of her days. As the months passed and the pile of shit dragging behind her got bigger and bigger, she could no longer enter her gunship, as there was just too much to fit inside it.

And so Samus quietly retired from her life as a warrior, forced to settle down on a nameless planet in a random solar system. Every day she considered using her comms equipment to send an emergency beacon and request aid from the Federation, but as the months became years, and the years became decades, she never spoke to anyone about the towering blue mountain that had slowly grown behind her. She was too embarrassed to admit it was hers.

~

Humanity had evolved rapidly in the last few centuries. Women with vaginas rather than cocks had all but gone extinct, and boys that grew body or facial hair or could gain muscle mass, a subspecies known as “men” were as rare as a white whale covered in four-leaf clovers. Of course alongside these changes were the changes to how peoples' bodies functioned. Women could shit a boy's body weight after a light brunch. Boys, on the other hand, were universally addicted to the pheromones of girlshit, as well as anal stimulation. Public toilets had changed quite a bit as a result.

Rather than the old world's closed off rooms with special seats that were connected to an underground network of pipes and other unnecessary (and frankly easy to break) nonsense, everybody realized it was far easier to just have a bunch of boy asses sticking out of the walls to poop into. New building code regulations mandated false wall compartments at all local businesses that allowed a boy to take a seat at a toilet station and stick their juicy little receptacles through the hole to the outside. From that point, it was a simple matter of waiting for a woman to walk by, drop her pants, press her ass against his, and let loose. Not that they had to wait all that long; boys' toilet asses were in high supply, but equally high demand. This had become far and away the most common profession for boys, and why wouldn't it be? Getting speared by a woman's thick, girthy log was typically enough to make any boy's modest little cocklet spew out its gratitude in liquid form. Plus it paid rather well.

Early on in the process it was clear that boys needed to be treated delicately. There was nothing more devastating to a woman than a teary-eyed boy in pain. The earliest tests of the new system had flimsy compartments with no insulation or anything, and it had proved a miserable experience for the boys, so their dingy holes in the wall were swiftly given a much higher budget before their full societal implementation. Heat and air conditioning systems were mandatory, as was comfortable seating and enough room to move around and not feel cramped. In the wintertime it would be inhumane to expect boys to sit with their bare asses exposed to the elements, and so most of the false walls had removable and reversible pieces that let the boys about-face and present their portable lavatories inward. Some businesses opted to use their inside toilets year-round.

Of course every once in awhile a woman would find a particular boy's toilet ass especially enchanting and ask the business in question if she could take him out on a date. These dates almost always ended up with the two becoming a couple and the boy retiring from his job, transitioning into the role of a personal toilet. However, some women let them keep working, as they found it kinky for their boyfriends to come home full of a bunch of miscellaneous women's shit.

~

“Unconditional immortality and eternal youth?”

“Check.”

“No need for oxygen or atmosphere?”  
  
“Check.”  
  
“Unbreakable spell that makes it so whenever we kiss each other we shit nonstop?”  
  
“So glad I asked mom about that one; check.”  
  
“Mutual white-hot lust that will never fade?”

“God you know that's a fucking check, babe.”  
  
“Mmm... Sounds like we're ready to fill it all up then.”

And so their lips locked, never again to be separated, and their anuses bloomed wide, never again to be closed. Thus began what would briefly be known by the imminently doomed humanity as the Great Brown End, as the lovers' unending bowel production slowly subsumed the planet Earth. Their neverending kiss would, over decades, fill the solar system, and over centuries, the galaxy. As centuries became millennia and the lovers' tongues danced without rest for the remainder of their eternal lives, the universe itself would saturate further and further with their waste, the void of space being clogged up like the grandest toilet there had ever been and would ever be.

Inevitably that toilet would eventually reach its maximum capacity. What other recourse was there but for it to spill over into a few neighboring toilets? At least until those ran out of room too.


	7. The incident where a floating cock appeared above my head, started pissing, and just never stopped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all, really.

I didn't notice the portal opening up right above my head that day. I'm not sure it would've made much difference if I did. It's not as if there was anything I could've done about it. Nor did I notice the 8-inch dick that emerged from it shortly after it appeared. Again, not that I could've done anything about it.

What I did notice, however, was a sudden stream of liquid falling on the top of my head. It caught me off guard, as I lived alone and it wasn't raining outside, so it couldn't have been a sudden leaky roof. When I went to move out of the desk chair I was sat in in order to see what the source of the liquid was, I realized there wasn't any coming down. Except there was. It was still coming down right on top of me. I tried to escape the downpour, flailing my arms above my head to get whatever was causing this off of me, but it was no use.

I ran to the bathroom, flipped the light switch on, and looked in the mirror, and there it was. A floating penis above my head, pointing down, pissing directly on me. I tried reaching up and grabbing at it, only for my hands to be repelled by an invisible force. I grabbed the heaviest object within reach, an old thick hardcover book I had on a shelf, but when I swung it at the phallic intruder, the same thing happened. Repelled, as if it was shielded by magic or something. I accidentally got some in my mouth and reflexively wanted to spit it out, but if I'm being honest it just kind of tasted like warm, ever so slightly salty tap water. It was still piss, obviously, but it wasn't nearly as disgusting as I'd assumed.

I'll make a long story short, here. This floating dick hasn't stopped peeing on me once. I spent the next several weeks trying to figure out what was happening, to no avail. I found out that it was indeed visible to other people, and I nearly got arrested the only time I tried to go out in public. Since then I've mostly stuck to calls or online communication, being careful not to get my expensive technology wet if possible. I ordered several large plastic basins to place around my house so I could stand or sit in them and not get it all over the floor, although some of that was unavoidable. By the end of week 3 it was starting to drive me nuts.

I wasn't exactly a one-percenter, but I had been lucky enough to inherit a small fortune from a distant uncle I'd never met. We'd both been ostracized from the rest of our shitty family for different reasons, so he left all of his wealth to me out of spite for the rest of them. If I had _really_ stretched it out I could probably have lived off of it with no job for a good 20 years, assuming nothing life-changing happened, but I didn't want to be that guy. Trust fund kids kind of made my blood boil, so I invested some of it, donated about half of it, and kept enough to serve as a safety net in case some kind of major issue arose, like a house fire or car theft.

I never thought one of the reasons I'd have to dip into it was to install a new plumbing system and new floors in my house to account for having a nonstop piss stream raining down on me. Every room was going to need a drain in the center, like the bathroom at a baseball stadium or something. I'm pretty sure the guys doing the renovations thought I was a massive sex freak but to be honest I didn't care. I just wanted to live my life as best I could at this point, and this disembodied floating cock was clearly not going to go away, so I had to make some changes. The project went mostly pretty smoothly, though I couldn't be in the house while it happened so I spent a few weeks camping in the woods nearby as one of my friends posed as me for the renovation guys, since I doubt they would've actually proceeded without someone there.

After another 2 weeks it was finally done. Thankfully since it was a pretty modest one-bedroom bachelor pad it didn't take as long as it could have. I walked back into my home, same as it ever was, except now when this unceasing stream of urine dripped off me and onto the floor, it flowed down into the new drain. Same for the kitchen and bedroom. Wonderful.

And so I adjusted to my new life. A life spent being peed on, 24/7. It eventually stopped bothering me as much. The bed was maybe the last sticking point, as it rapidly became saturated with pee and was a wet, squishy mess from that point on, but like the rest of it, I tuned out that weirdness after awhile too. One by one my mental barriers with this bizarre situation were shattered. What probably would have been the most shameful at the beginning was the part of me that would be disgusted at the idea of drinking pee; and yet even back then I had found out this particular person's piss had an almost perfectly neutral taste to it, so over time I began to simply tilt my head back and treat it as a reverse drinking fountain whenever I was thirsty. It wasn't as satisfying as something cold, but, loathe as I am to admit, it was... refreshing, in a different way.

It had been about 7 months since this whole ordeal started. I felt like I was finally fully accustomed to things, like my life, strange and inconvenient as it was, was back under some semblance of normalcy despite the circumstances. That is, until I heard a voice. It sounded like it was coming from... above my head? It was a woman's voice, but it had a certain assertive timbre to it, like she was someone who knew what she wanted and how to achieve it.

“... such a fucking freak, you know that sis? Do you even know what the poor sap you're doing this to looks like?” My eyes widened and I momentarily stopped breathing.

“Hah, nope, never bothered to take a look at 'em, could be a celebrity for all I know,” came a similar sounding yet distinct second voice. From the context of the conversation I gathered this second voice belonged to the person whose cock had been pissing on me 24/7 for the last half a year.

“HEY!” I shouted as I turned around and looked up to see a hole in space above me, floating a few inches away from the dick. I saw the face of a woman noticing me and looking down into the hole. So it really was a portal.

“Oh hey, so you're my little sister's urinal!” she said with an irreverent tone, putting a single eye up to the portal to look at me. A second later she moved and stuck her fingers through, physically stretching the hole wider to give me a better look at her face.

She was wearing some kind of strange garb, like an anime or video game character you'd see goth girls cosplaying at a convention. Her hair was a dark shade of purple, short and spiky, and her face was covered in strange makeup patterns and piercings. A second woman's face appeared, leaning over and viewing through the portal from behind. This, I gathered, was the “little sister” who'd decided I was her urinal. She was wearing a similar getup but with a number of differences in the details, and her hair was longer and a much lighter shade of purple, almost lavender. She gave me a little wave and a dismissive smirk.

“Are you the one who did this to me!?” I shouted up into the opening. “This is insane! How is it even possible!? Why are you doing this!?” I could feel the hollow indignance in my own words. I'd gotten over it. This really didn't bother me that much anymore. In fact, if I was being totally honest... I'd kind of grown to enjoy it a little bit. But I couldn't just casually greet her like a new friend. That would be insane. I needed to muster up some kind of outrage, to make her feel bad for her actions. I guess.

“Uhh... I dunno,” said the younger sister, shrugging her shoulders. “Thought it'd be hot to cast an infinity spell on my bladder and aim it at some rando in another world.” That... was it? She did it... on a whim? And I was literally just picked as her target out of sheer luck? I had no response.

“Well anyway, not to cut our first meeting short, but I'm gonna cast the same spell on my big sis and she thought it'd be fun to point our dicks at the same guy. So we're both gonna be pissing on you forever now.” She said it so flippantly I almost just replied 'oh, ok,' and let them go on with their twisted little plan, but I found my voice just before they resumed what they were doing.

“Hang on! Please!”

“Sorry dude, you're not gonna change my mind,” the older sister said, giving me a predatory look, eyeing my soaked body up and down. “I know my precious little sis has probably made your life miserable and screwed up everything for you but we-”  
  
“No, she hasn't.” That made her stop in her tracks, and caused both of them to give me quizzical looks through the portal opening. “I've... been a loner for most of my life. My family disowned me when I was 14, and I only have a few close friends, so... it's actually not that inconvenient.”

“Uh-huh...?” the older sister said with a raised eyebrow, curious about my point.

“And, well... I actually got accustomed to this whole thing... pretty quickly. To be honest... I... kind of like it now,” I told them, verbalizing my feelings for the first time. “It's rather warm and... I don't know, soothing? Calming?”

The sisters both gave me a bit of a blank stare, glanced toward one another, then back at me, both uttering a “... huh,” at the same time.

“Before you, um, get to it, I was wondering if you'd... tell me your names?” I asked, somewhat sheepishly. I tried not to blush, but I think they could see it through the liquid streaming down my face anyway.

“Awwww!!” they both exclaimed, seemingly completely out of character for what I'd gotten to know of the two of them thus far. It was like they'd suddenly spotted a cute puppy, only it was a piss-soaked guy from another world that was about to get even wetter.

“Well I guess we can do that much, since you're such a cute little toilet. I'm Mira,” said the older sister.

“And I'm Rynn.” Finally, I had both a name and a face to associate with the last 7 months of my strange new life. “What about you?”

“... me?” I was admittedly caught off guard by the question. I didn't expect the two women who had been, and would continue to regard me as nothing more than their personal 24/7 urinal to care about my name.

“Yeah, I'm kind of curious now,” admitted Rynn.

“Uh, it's Nathan.”

“Pfft,” Mira stifled a laugh. I raised an eyebrow at her, and even Rynn didn't know what was so funny about that. “Oh, hah. I guess you wouldn't know,” said Mira, after noticing Rynn's questioning look. “The word 'nathan' is used in one of our world's languages-” she clarified to me, before turning back to Rynn and saying “- Caltizzean,” which I can only assume was the name of the language in question. Rynn seemed to know what it was and nodded in the affirmative. “It means... uh... well, it's a ceremonial jug that a certain tribe from the Caltizzean Isles would... collectively urinate into.” That caused Rynn to burst out laughing as she exited from the view of the portal. I could hear her howling in the background as Mira tried to hold in her giggles as she waited for my response.

“... is that real?”

“Real as the piss you've been covered in.”

“... what was the ceremony for?”

“I dunno, probably fertility or something. The tribes of Caltiz are real horny, into some weird shit. Different fetish on each island, I've always heard. They're cool with visitors so it's kind of a challenge among degenerate tourists to make it through all 7 islands in a week, spending a night on each one.” As Mira was telling me about this, Rynn's laughter continued, gradually fading into a series of chuckles. She made her presence known visually again, eyes full of tears and a big smile on her face, threatening to break into an uncontrollable fit at any moment.

“Well it's been nice to meet you, piss-jug, but my sister's gonna wrap this thing around her cock and start using you as a urinal now,” said Rynn, barely able to hold a straight face. She again backed out of the view of the portal, leaving only Mira. I must have had some kind of forlorn look, because Mira seemed to notice something was wrong.

“Hey sis, let's pop over into his world next time we need to blow off some steam and double-fuck him senseless,” she suggested to Rynn, who nonchalantly agreed with a “Yeah sure, why not?” Mira looked back into the portal and gave me a wink and a smile, which I returned with a nervous but excited grin, before she finally moved the portal down to her lower body. The portal's size returned to about a 2 inch diameter, and I watched as a cock even thicker and longer than the one I'd been saddled with all this time emerged from the gap in space. It throbbed slightly in anticipation, and about 90 seconds later I watched the first drops of piss emerge from its slit, splashing onto my already wet face.

Rynn and Mira's nonstop pee streams kept me company for the rest of my life. They'd occasionally let one of their friends use me as well, though most of them got tired of it after a few weeks and asked Rynn to undo the infinity spell. One of them, the only one who actually stuck with it for the long haul like Rynn and Mira, specifically wanted her cock to be nestled into my ass crack and peeking out from under my balls, which it was long enough to do easily, and requested that I wear underwear as often as possible. I guess she got quite a bit out of the idea of pissing someone else's pants. The girls would visit occasionally, and true to Mira's word, they put me through my paces. But those encounters are a story for another time.


	8. Naruko's New Nine Tails

Naruko knew there'd be consequences to her decision. When you have a being as powerful as Kurama living inside of you, even though she'd befriended him years prior, there are always consequences when you make such a drastic change to your body. Kurama had even warned her beforehand, but she had to do it.

After a few years of dating Hinata as a boy, Naruko came to realize her heart was that of a woman's. She talked to Hinata about it, who wholeheartedly supported Naruko. It was even her idea to cast a permanent version of what Naruko had always jokingly referred to as the “Sexy Jutsu.” This time it would be performed with much more serious intent, and they'd spent a few months researching what changes to the typical Transformation Jutsu would be necessary to make it permanent, without any chakra strain. Even with Naruko's vast well of natural chakra and Kurama inside her making it that much deeper, even a minor drain would take a toll on a person over time.

Picking a rather insignificant, random date, they finally performed the technique, transforming the male body of the young heroic ninja into female. Immediately she looked into a nearby mirror and took a moment to stare at herself; she was not altogether unrecognizable as her former self, but it was now impossible to mistake her for a boy. At first, everything seemed wonderful; the chakra strain was nowhere to be felt, meaning this truly was a permanent change. Naruko turned to Hinata, who was teary-eyed with joy over her girlfriend finally achieving her ideal form. She gave Hinata a cheerful thumbs-up.

Then, out of the blue, the side effects Kurama warned about made themselves known. A sudden change in how her body felt caused her to nearly double over. It was slightly painful, but more than pain what she felt was... an intense pressure, localized entirely in her gut. Hinata reached over and placed a hand on Naruko's shoulder, worried something had gone wrong with the jutsu. However, before either of them could actually process what was happening, Naruko felt a powerful release. Just as quickly as the pressure appeared, so too did it disappear, accompanied by a sharp gasp from Hinata.

Naruko, pressure gone, looked up and saw a shocked Hinata, eyes wide and mouth covered with her hands. Curious what was causing the look on her girlfriend's face, Naruko glanced back at the mirror, spotting the problem. What she was greeted with was a foreign, and yet strangely familiar and nostalgic, sight. 

Extending up from the now bulging seat of her pants were 9 huge fox tails made of poop.

Naruko and Hinata tried their best to stay calm. It wasn't easy. It took all of their willpower not to immediately panic at the bizarre incident. After a few minutes of deep breathing, Naruko assuring Hinata that she felt okay and nothing was hurting, they were able to investigate these... shit tails.

Hinata's first action was to gently pull down Naruko's pants. She confirmed that, yes, the tails were indeed all coming from her anus, as though they were still connected to her insides. Naruko claimed she didn't feel anything inside. When Hinata then tried to remove one of them, she grabbed it and pulled it out, fairly effortlessly. Naruko, seconds later, let out a loud grunting noise as she briefly clutched her stomach, before a replacement turd sprouted out from her ass, forming the complete set of 9 once again. Hinata was left holding a three foot long rope of poop. Rather than dropping it in disgust, she remarked how strange it felt. It was easily malleable, like clay or mud, but left no mess on her hands as she touched it. There was also no odor coming from it. This was one of the strangest phenomena either of them had ever witnessed, and Naruko asked Hinata to hang tight as she consulted Kurama.

Journeying into her own soul, or mind, or whatever this place was, she was greeted by a snickering Kurama, who had always had front row seats to Naruko's life. When probed about what was going on, she was simply told that he warned her. He had no control over her bowels, and this was an involuntary reaction from her body. After a particularly intense staredown from Naruko, he reiterated, smirk gone from his face, that he was seriously not doing it, and she sighed and accepted his assertion.

When she popped back into her bedroom, she couldn't see Hinata, but quickly realized that her girlfriend was behind her, fawning over her new appendages as though they were the most fascinating things in the world. They spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do next and decided they need help from a professional.

That night, under the cover of darkness, the two of them sought aid from Sakura and Tsunade. Unfortunately, as this was a rather unprecedented case, neither of them was able to provide much of an explanation beyond “it seems to be a side effect of changing your body as a Jinchuuriki.” When shown the results of attempted removal, both of them concluded that they'd have to just leave Naruko with a giant plume of shit coming out of her ass and sticking up behind her. She would have to live like this for the time being.

Several weeks passed with no sign of the tails going away, and Naruko had to leave the house eventually. She thankfully had nothing planned that day, as the remainder of it was spent explaining to people around town what why she was a woman now and why she had an enormous quantity of feces blossoming out of her pants behind her. The residents of Konohagakure were all mostly accepting of both changes, given Naruko's role in saving the village multiple times.

Weeks became months. Initially, it was a bit of a hassle just trying to do normal things with a bulge roughly the size of a small human torso always protruding from her ass and several limbs worth of poo sticking up out past her own head. Even just sitting down was a bit of a process. She needed to account for a much larger frame than she was used to, and often just opted to stand.

Kurama always claimed he couldn't control it, and that it _would_ go away over time, though Naruko never really believed him on either count, and eventually she and her new wife Hinata just got used to it. One of Hinata's favorite kinky bedroom activities would eventually be to wrap her arms around all nine of them and yank them out at once, forcing Naruko to sprout a new set of turds. She'd do that a few more times until they'd built up a sizable quantity, and then, surrounded by Naruko's enormous dung tails, they would the deed. Naruko never quite realized what a deviant Hinata was before this, and Hinata didn't think she'd ever find someone who could bring such a side out of her like that, but they were beyond happy it had worked out this way. They were perfect for one another.

Naruko would eventually take the office of Seventh Hokage, a title she wore proudly. Somewhat less proud was the nickname the children of the village gave her: Pookage. But alas, it _was_ her most striking feature, and she couldn't deny over time she'd come to like her permanent additions. Even the numerous Shadow Clones she often employed to divide up her work sported her signature shit tails, a trait which Hinata was more than happy to take advantage of in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter one. I don't know how other people feel about these sort of dialogue-free stories but I enjoy writing them. I often find myself without a lot for characters to actually say, so at the end of it I'd kind of rather the whole thing just be narrated rather than have two or three lines of people talking total.


	9. Mini-Quickies #3

It was quite the odd combination of Materia that Cloud had equipped. He generally let the others have first pick and just slotted in whatever was left, as he felt confident in his inherent combat abilities. So that was why he had the Barrier, Mystify, and Manipulate Materia equipped. But he happened to find a new one, one he almost missed hidden among the rocks and pebbles. It blended in, as it was a Brown Materia. Unsure what it did, he slotted it into his sword, hoping to test it out in the next battle.

However when he turned back around he saw Tifa and Yuffie, the pair he had been traveling with, walking over to him, chatting away with each other, seemingly completely unaware that their underwear had exploded out the back of their skirt and shorts, respectively, and was now sagging behind their knees.

Cloud, quickly realizing what had caused this, tried removing the Brown Materia, only to find it was stuck. No matter how hard he pulled he couldn't free it from his sword. Worried, he popped out the Mystify in his armlet, and the two girls, who had been completely unaware of the bulges hanging off their backsides a moment ago, were now openly pointing at each others' huge lumps as they conversed. It was like they were comparing which one was bigger.

Curious what would happen if he removed his Manipulate, he quickly put it back in when Tifa and Yuffie's screams briefly pierced the air. He put the Mystify back in as well, and they seemed to once again forget what was going on and continued talking about completely unrelated things.

He eyed the Barrier Materia in his sword for a few seconds, electing to leave it in place. He had a bad feeling about what would happen if he took that one out.

Cloud shrugged and rejoined the two ladies as they resumed their journey, grabbing a handful of both loads through their distended panties, neither of whom noticed. Might as well enjoy himself.

~

After I went away for college for a few years, I found out my mom had developed a strange habit: she'd started pissing on my old bed in the middle of the night. I had taken most of the stuff I wanted immediate access to with me, but left a lot of my furniture in my old room. When I graduated and couldn't find a job right away I decided to move back in with her until I could get things going, but my first night back I was woken up by one of those “oh no, I'm wetting the bed aren't I?” dreams, only to find that no, it was actually my mother, seemingly dead asleep in a nightgown, cock pulled out of her panties, aimed right at my center mass.

I almost shouted, but caught myself. People told me I'd always been a bit too considerate of others, and I guess this was a perfect example; I wasn't willing to wake my mom up in the middle of the night, even though she was urinating all over me. And it was a _lot_ , too, like I could already tell she had been going for a solid 45 seconds, and she had plenty left in the tank. So I laid there, watching. The familiar figure of my mother, just barely visible thanks to the faint moonlight pouring through my window, and the glimmer of a single stream of hot piss arcing out of the tip of her penis onto my body. I could see enough of her face to see she had a very satisfied look painted across it, like even in her sleep she was able to enjoy the feeling of relief immensely.

After about 4 minutes I was practically swimming in a shallow pool of mom pee, and when her flow started to wane she turned to the left slightly, pointing the last of it directly at my face. I closed my eyes and mouth and let it happen. Very gradually over the next minute and a half I could feel her stream weakening as she finally ran out. Wiping my face and opening my eyes I could see her awkwardly shuffling away, sleepwalking back to her own room. At some point she must have come in and did it again because when I woke up a few hours later I definitely had gotten even wetter than before.

Any thoughts that it may have just been a one time incident were quickly put to rest, as she just kept on doing it. Every night, twice a night, like clockwork. And... I suppose that's the end of my story. What, did you think I would make her stop? It didn't wake me up after a couple days of getting used to it, so it's not like I was losing sleep because of it. I guess I could lock my door or something, but I'm not the kind of person who would purposefully deny someone access to their toilet in the middle of the night. What do you people take me for, some kind of monster?

~

Last year's Ms. Mega Milk contest was fraught with controversy. Contestants in both the Bust division and the Bulge division had been exposed for cheating. A promising generation of girls with endowments to die for both up top and down below were forced to be disqualified. Multiple entrants had secretly been stuffing their regulation Mega Milk shirts and panties with large quantities of their own feces before walking on stage, attempting to drastically inflate the recorded sizes of their breasts or their cocks and balls. The embarrassed contest judges were forced to award first prize in both divisions to the highest placing girls who hadn't been found with their tits or their cocks covered in several kilos of waste, which in the Bust division was 7th, and in the Bulge division ended up being 16th.

When asked for comment on their wins by default, the now 1st place Ms. Mega Milk of the Bust division said “To be honest I was actually going to do it myself, but I couldn't hold it and had to shit real bad the night before.” The new Bulge division winner claimed it simply never occurred to her to do something like that, and said she'd have to try it herself in private that night.

As a result of the scandal, this year's Ms. Mega Milk had added a third division for girls to enter: the Brownie division. It ended up having nearly twice as many entrants as the other two divisions combined. Contestants would be judged on the size of their butt-bulge, its weight, how aesthetically pleasing it was, and how well it was contained. It wouldn't do to have a Ms. Mega Milk spilling all her assets out onto the stage, after all. There had been strict rules about leakage in the other two divisions for years after a few unfortunate falls due to a slippery stage floor.

The popularity of the Brownie division would necessitate that it eventually replace and subsume the other two, and cause the Ms. Mega Milk contest to be renamed Ms. Chocolate Milk. The Bust and Bulge divisions would eventually be re-integrated into the contest, though with new rules that would actually _mandate_ contestants load up their fronts with feces, the very thing that had once caused mass disqualification. A few years later it would be renamed again, to better represent its mission statement and its three divisions, into Ms. Triple Chocolate Fudge, and it was under this name that the contest would be renowned as the most popular and long-lasting beauty contests in modern history, with thousands upon thousands of applicants every year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of every ridiculous concept I've come up with in these stupid stories I think Ms. Triple Chocolate Fudge is the idea I'd most love to see in illustrated form. Well, aside from the "fill up the universe" ones, anyway.


	10. Mini-Quickies #4

Lisa had a bad habit of letting her competitive side out when gaming. She was normally pretty chill and agreeable, but she couldn't help but shout and curse when playing a multiplayer game, generally shooters. She claimed it helped her release all her frustrations and stress from work. She didn't own a mic, since she knew that would just get her banned from every game she played.

Her boyfriend Jesse was the opposite, as he'd always been a boisterous extrovert. He liked to refuel his energy at the end of the day with a nice single player, story focused game, with long RPGs being his favorites.

They fit together surprisingly well, both romantically and physically. Whenever Lisa needed to vent by yelling at nobody in particular, she cozied up on her favorite gamer chair: Jesse's bare, cushy ass. He would get into position, draping himself across a comfy footstool with his butt pointed upward and his arms resting on a cushion on the floor, usually playing the Switch, with his phone in arm's reach. Once Lisa had gotten settled in and started her matchmaking session, her rosebud bloomed open, followed almost immediately by Jesse's hole doing the same but in the opposite direction, both caused by Lisa's massive turd descending from her colon into his.

Jesse was the perfect gamer chair, as well as the perfect toilet. He had tons of room in his guts, which was just as well, since Lisa had tons of shit to store in there. A typical night of gaming for Lisa lasted about two hours, and that was mostly just dictated by how long it took her to shit.

But it wasn't as uneven a relationship as it sounds. Lisa only worked 4 days a week, and so on Fridays and weekends, Jesse got to enjoy the reverse, and used Lisa's ass as _his_ gamer chair while she played the Switch. This version of their arrangement typically lasted about 5 hours on average, since the shit was traveling upward instead of down, so it took longer to fill Jesse up.

~

8 months. It'd been 8 months since me and my twin sister had a petty little argument over something completely inconsequential and stupid. 8 months since she decided she'd had enough of her annoying twin and drugged me so I'd sleep through an F5 tornado. 7 months and 29 days since I woke up inside her underwear.

I don't really have it in me to go in depth on how it went down, but essentially, when I woke from my nearly 18 hour artificially induced coma, she noticed me moving and made some snide little comment about how she'd been holding it in, and then... started shitting. Then she kept doing it any time she needed to go. With me inside. And believe me, I tried getting out, but to no avail. I was stuck in there; somehow she'd made it so the the exits were all inescapable. Some kind of magic? Crazy hi-tech sex toy underwear? No idea.

For the first few weeks she bragged to anybody who would listen about how she'd trapped me in there, laughing with all her friends at her “shitty little brother” as she had started calling me, even though we were twins, and I was technically older. It was humiliating at first, and from what I could hear of the conversations on the outside it seemed like everyone she talked to thought it was really cool that she had started dragging a giant load of poop behind her wherever she went. I think she may have ended up starting a fad at her college? Hopefully not the “trap people inside” part.

Whenever she was back at home or by herself I'd shout at her to let me out, but she almost always gave the same three responses: mock me, ignore me, or shit on me, usually combining one of the first two with the third. After about a month, though, I purposefully gave up fighting it. I figured she'd get bored of this eventually if I didn't give her the satisfaction of being audibly miserable. Surely at some point she'd get tired of heaving the weight of me and all this shit around with her everywhere.

But instead... I think she forgot I was in there. It seems like she just... thought of her panties as a permanent mobile toilet. By the time I realized she'd forgotten about me... well, I guess I'd forgotten I wasn't supposed to be there. I didn't really know what I would do if I got out at that point. This cramped mass of sister-poop was my home now. But, I suppose it wasn't so bad. It got bigger every day, after all. A few more months and I'd probably be able to stretch out my body all the way.

8 months. At least... that's how long it took for me to stop counting. Time has started to become meaningless after that. At some point my sister started dating a girl, and it sounded like it was going well for however long they had been together, until they had an argument. I guess however long it's been, she's as petty and spiteful as ever, because the next thing I knew... I had a roommate. After a pretty rough, and very scream-y, start she eventually settled down and we started talking. They'd apparently been dating for about 6 months and my sister was furious that she didn't remember or plan anything for their 6-month anniversary. Figures it was something stupid like that. I broke the news that she was trapped in here, and helped her get accustomed to life in my sister's shit. I think it took her maybe a year and a half to stop keeping track of time? By that point we'd decided we might as well be boyfriend and girlfriend. We made each other happy in here at least.

~

Above it all, above the gods and goddesses, above the fabric of space and time itself, was Origin, the one who began it all. To think of her as a “goddess” would be both a serious overestimation of the reach and power of a mere god, as well as a grave insult to her own capabilities, insight, and grand presence. Gods had dominion over their own universes; she was beyond even the multiverses. A single universe was but a mere plaything to her, barely even worth regard, and a multiverse was simply a cluster of them bunched together. Gods could manipulate reality; she _created_ reality. Several of them, in fact. She could reshape it, rework it, destroy it, and rebuild it at her leisure, including all those grandstanding egotistical gods living in it.

Occasionally Origin would take a special interest in a particular god or goddess, though; like observing a specific ant in an ant farm, she watched them scurry about, doing whatever meaningless things it was they did. Sometimes they amused her enough to warrant a bit of extra attention. In particular was a goddess who had, in recent millennia, had developed a habit of filling up large parts of her own universe with a strange physical matter. Upon focusing her insight a slight hint deeper, Origin deduced that it was something the mortals, lesser beings whose existences began and ended in the blink of an eye, of her realm did as part of their lives, and she had gained a fondness for this activity, partaking in it herself on a larger scale.

Origin, curious what it was that had endeared the goddess to it, decided to try it for herself. Pointing her backside toward a few thousand multiverse clusters, she took her first ever shit. It seemed like it was over even quicker than a mortal's life, and the multiverses were all full to bursting with this brown solid matter that Origin had willed into existence. She was a bit underwhelmed, hoping there would be more to it than that. Perhaps she simply overestimated the goddess's tastes. Giving it another chance, she cleared out her mess from the multiverses, and, determined to be sure she wasn't missing anything, gathered several hundred billion more multiverse clusters behind her; a fraction of a fraction of what she had access to, but perhaps this would suffice for the moment.

Once again, Origin aimed her rear at them, and shit for the second time. This time she actually felt something. It was over quickly once again, and all of those multiverses were again completely saturated with Origin's shit, but this time it lasted just long enough for her to feel a twinge of pleasure and realize just what it was that that lowly goddess enjoyed about this "pooping" thing.

That realization sealed the deal for all of reality. The creator of all had developed a new fascination with filling everything that ever existed and ever would exist with her poop, and it would be an eternity's worth of eternities before she grew bored of unloading, clearing out, and unloading some more, into everything, everywhere, and everywhen. To make matters worse, she decided to casually create a few trillion more realities to use as toilets, alternating between them, but leaving them full of shit (for eons from the perspective of those actually in those realities) in between removing it all just so she could fill them right back up. She liked to admire her handiwork while she shit, after all.


End file.
